


Consortia Sanctioned Family Time

by FrostyFallon



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, drift does not want to be rods dad, just ignore the weird pairing it all came from a discord convo, meteor surfing, ratchet and roller are rods dads
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 18:49:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16686991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrostyFallon/pseuds/FrostyFallon
Summary: A run in with the Consortia leads Rodimus to sharing one of his favorite activities with the mechs he cares about. Meteor Surfing.





	Consortia Sanctioned Family Time

**Author's Note:**

> This all came from a convo on the Briefcases discord server about Roller and OP taking in protoform Hot Rod in as a kid, OP being a terrible father, and Ratchet adopting Rod. Somehow we added in Rodimus being worshiped as a God due to his fire and Rod being the only Cybertronian to Meteor Surf which is usually an organic only sport. AKA we wanted Roddy to look cool and be happy.

So running into the Consortia wasn't ideal to say the least. But here they were, months after kicking Getaway’s aft, reclaiming the ship, and saving the universe, running head first into Consortia controlled space. And all this could’ve been avoided if _someone_ didn't get all grumpy and cut Former Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord Sanctioned Hedonia Party Time short. But what was the human phrase? Oh! Hind-looking is 100% or something like that.

 

But right, Consortia, the worst of the worse when it came to technophobes. At least if it were the Galactic Council Magnus could recite rules at them till they ran away and he’d be able to laugh at their stupid hats; the Consortia were ones to shoot first steal Cybertronian tech later.

 

So they decided to park the Lost Light on a nearby planet. A nearby planet that just happened to be by a huge asteroid belt. An asteroid that he _knew._

 

Rodimus was practically vibrating on the spot. He _knew_ this planet. How did he not realize they were in the system before? He should thank the Consortia for getting in their way if it meant they had to lie low on Vesta 4 for an indeterminate amount of time.

 

Just the name made him giddy, _Vesta 4: Meteor Surfing Capital of the Universe_. Oh man when had he last got the chance to meteor surf? Had to be Meteor Fest a few years ago… Frag. Maybe he could get Drift to try and surf some ‘tors. And he could bring Roller and Ratch to watch…

 

The Consortia was getting a Rodimus Star for this.

 

* * *

 

Two, two Rodimus Stars. Rodimus thought as he stared with wide optics at the city he had dragged his somewhat reluctant family to. The gear shops where specialized gear was sold to the native organic species to protect them when meteor surfing, the many shuttles set up to take surfers up to the meteor showers that were a constant occurrence on Vesta 4, and right there in the middle of town, a large statue of a meteor surfer with skills the stuff of legend.

 

_“Is that you?!”_ Drift exclaimed from behind Rodimus, staring at the 20 foot statue of his Amica/Step-Son on a flaming meteor. It had to be him, from the exhausts/flamethrowers on the statue’s arms, to the spoiler on its back, and the wide grin etched on its face; there was no doubt that the statue was _Rodimus_.

 

“Yeah! I’m like a legend to these guys. They all thought I’d melt when I said I wanted to try meteor surfing but they didn't realize who _I_ was. Being able to flame out has its perks like I don't think I can actually overheat.”

 

“But a _statue?”_

 

“They think I'm like a benevolent meteor surfing god too.”

 

“A God.”

 

“That’s what I said.”

 

“ _A God.”_

 

“Are gonna do this all day because I haven’t surfed in a year or two and that's kinda the whole reason I dragged you out here.”

 

“Right, surfing, just. Warn a mech before you tell them _that they're worshiped like a god._ ”

 

“Well now you can say you’re my step-dad, amica, and messenger to my amazing godliness.” Grinned Rodimus.

 

That prompted a laugh out of the other mech who flashed Rodimus a grin of his own.

 

“Well then let's go meet your adoring followers _my benevolent fiery-son-friend Lord.”_

 

“Pfft. Lead the way _dad._ ”

 

“Ugh don't call me that please.”

 

* * *

 

_“Its him!”_

 

_“No way! He- he’s REAL!”_

 

_“Mom- Mom look!!”_

 

_“Dude I told you he was real! I did see him at Meteor Fest a few years ago!”_

 

_“By Astros Wrath, the Lord of Fire! He’s returned!”_

 

“I know you said they worship you but this is weird.”

 

“Really? Guess I got use to it after a while. Oh! There's Roller and Ratch! Hey! Dad!” Rodimus waved at the two bots, running over to meet them. “So what do you think of the place? Great right?”

 

“Well everyone around here is certainly _enthusiastic_ about meteor surfing.” Ratchet said looking wearily at a pair of Vestians walk by each sporting specialized heat-resistant gear and each gaping at Rodimus. “And _you_ apparently. Care to explain?”

 

“I’m/He’s their God.” Rodimus and Drift said in unison.

 

Rodimus failed to hide his snickers at both Roller and Ratchet’s shocked faces. Drift gave the two bots a smile while he shrugged. Roller was the first to come back to himself as he looked at the bot he’d raised from a tiny protoform.

 

“That's, that's, I mean. I’m-” Ok maybe not fully back. Seeing as words weren't his friend at the moment Roller chose instead to place a hand on Rodimus’ shoulder, patting it in what he hoped conveyed a ‘good job.’

 

* * *

 

Rodimus seemed to glow with the attention as the group made their way towards a shuttle. He was all smiles, waving to passerbys, stopping to take a pic or two, sign gear, shake hands, and to the utter delight of one parent ‘bless’ their child. Ratchet walked behind his foster son, holding Drifts hand as he was all but lead along, and trying to think about how his life had led him here. With a _son_ who was also his conjunx’s amica while also not really his son but his _other conjunx’s_ son, and said son failed to ever mention that he might _be considered a GOD._

 

It was all Optimus’s fault.

 

After Roller vanished and the war began to heat up faster and faster, Ratchet became the designated babysitter and it just escalated from there. Suddenly Ratchet went from being a babysitter to a full on caretaker while Optimus became so engrossed in the war he barely remembered those not at the frontlines. Like the youngling with a penchant for bursting into flames.

 

But, he supposed watching Rodimus soak up the attention, looking more like himself that he’d been in years, he wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

 

* * *

 

Eventually the group made it to a shuttle designed for larger species and climbed aboard after a brief freak out from their pilot. Rodimus was vibrating in his seat, the small shuttle heating up by several degrees in his excitement. It brought a smile to Roller’s face to see the mech he’d taken in as a youngling like this.

 

Waking up on the Necroworld and learning 4 million years had gone by, he’d been terrified at first. _What had happened to Orion? What happened to Hot Rod??_ Learning of the war increased his dread. The little sparkling that would burst into flame if someone smiled at him could be gone and he’d probably never find out how. Never get the chance to say goodbye. And then he’d seen him, Rodimus, the little sparkling him and Orion had defended an entire hot spot for all grown up. One tearful reunion, one ship to reclaim, and one saved universe later and here he was. With his son and his two (two!) conjunxes. He wasn’t so sure a higher power really existed but if it did he had a lot to thank it for.

  


Eventually the shuttle parked itself near a popular meteor shower as evident by the multiple other shuttles parked similarly nearby. Outside organics of all kinds, decked out fully in specialized heat resistant gear maneuvered themselves onto a meteorite and piloting it down to the surface.

 

The temperature inside the shuttle was becoming unbearable as Rodimus seemed about ready to flame out on the spot.

 

“So? Are you gonna just sit here and make us all melt or are you gonna go out there already?’ Ratchet complained lightly. He would never admit that the heat was good for his old joints but, Drift agreed, it was getting a bit _too_ hot. Especially if the sudden drooping of the metal seats was anything to go by.

 

“Ya, ya I know ‘don't over-excite yourself and set the shuttle on fire’ I’ve heard it a thousand times. But I can't just go _now!_ I need to find the perfect meteor!”

 

“Can you go outside the shuttle and wait? I’m not sure how much more the shuttle can take” Drift asked gesturing to the benches that looked more like inverted arches now. Following his gaze and seeing the damage, Rodimus pouted but began to move towards the exit.

 

“ _Fine!_ Even though it's easier to get to a meteor from inside a shuttle” Rodimus muttered as he punched in the code to open the airlock. Once the door opened Rodimus stepped inside and waited for the doors to exit the shuttle to open. Once out he quickly magnetized himself to the side of the shuttle and hung on to look for the perfect meteor to surf.

 

Drift, Ratchet, and Roller moved towards the viewing window in the shuttle watching the many other surfers try to maneuver their meteors in increasingly complicated fashions. Rolls and swirls, handstands or what counted as a handstand for some species, jumping, some even trying to flip with limited, er _success_. If falling off could count as success.

 

And then there was Rodimus, he launched himself off the side of the shuttle as soon as a meteor that could be deemed perfect floated nearby. He landed smoothly on the rocky surface and quickly began to steer the meteor. Pulling off zigzags, swirls, and a daring loop that drew the eyes of most of the other surfers.

Then he hit the planet’s atmosphere and the meteor began to burn up on reentry. Most of the organics at this point seemed to activate a parachute like part of their suits and eject themselves from the meteor. But of course Rodimus did nothing of the sort.

 

Instead of fleeing from something that would certainly kill or severely harm any other creature Rodimus embraced the heat. The flames around him acting like a blanket if nothing else, warming him but leaving his frame unmarred.

 

Rodimus upped the difficulty of his tricks, zigzags were beginner stuff anyway. No a handstand to a front flip while traveling several hundred miles per hour of a flaming meteor was _the pro stuff._ And because he could, he threw in a zigzag.

 

Eventually too much of his chosen meteor burnt up and he regretfully leapt off in the direction of the shuttle.

 

::So, what’d ya think?:: He commed the other 3 mechs.

 

:: _Stupid_ is what it is! Do you even realize that a single piece of debris could-::

 

::I mean wow, _wow_ ::  

 

::As, long as you’re having fun. Safe fun. And not getting seriously injured...::

 

::Glad you liked it! Because that was just the first run, I’m not leaving here till the Consortia does.::

 

::So what are we supposed to do? Just watch you show off to a bunch of organics that already worship the ground you walk on?::

 

::.... Yes?::

 

Ratchet signed through the comms.

 

::Well it beats listening to Megatron and Magnus freak out over the Consortia. Get back over here and at least tell us how you pulled off some of those stunts. Drifts about ready to combust himself in excitement.::

 

::I am not! It was just amazing to watch! I’m not about to throw myself out there, I know my limits.::

 

::No wait I can show you some beginner moves! And if you get a meteor that's far away from the planet it’s not even hot!::

 

::You’re not just saying that right?::

 

::Duh, why do you think I prefer the meteors closer to planet fall the others are way too cold::

 

::Just stay safe, both of you. Ratch is stressed out as is.::

 

:: _Stressed out_ ? I'm not 'stressed out'. Just because I'm not crazy about people getting hit with flaming rocks traveling hundreds of miles per hour doesn't mean I'm _' stressed out.'_ ::

 

::Of course…::

 

OK three, three Rodimus Stars. One for being in the right place at the right time, one for hanging around long enough for them to get to do this, and one for letting Rodimus spend time with his family like this.

 


End file.
